before adam-第6章

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care；　not　in　a　house。　　And　my　mother　lived　anywhere；　so

long　as　when　night　came　she　was　above　the　ground。



My　mother　was　old…fashioned。　　She　still　clung　to　her

trees。　　It　is　true；　the　more　progressive　members　of　our

horde　lived　in　the　caves　above　the　river。　　But　my

mother　was　suspicious　and　unprogressive。　The　trees　were

good　enough　for　her。　　Of　course；　we　had　one　particular

tree　in　which　we　usually　roosted；　though　we　often

roosted　in　other　trees　when　nightfall　caught　us。　　In　a

convenient　fork　was　a　sort　of　rude　platform　of　twigs

and　branches　and　creeping　things。　　It　was　more　like　a

huge　bird…nest　than　anything　else；　though　it　was　a

thousand　times　cruder　in　the　weaving　than　any

bird…nest。　　But　it　had　one　feature　that　I　have　never

seen　attached　to　any　bird…nest；　namely；　a　roof。



Oh；　not　a　roof　such　as　modern　man　makes！　Nor　a　roof

such　as　is　made　by　the　lowest　aborigines　of　to…day。　　It

was　infinitely　more　clumsy　than　the　clumsiest　handiwork

of　manof　man　as　we　know　him。　It　was　put　together　in　a

casual；　helter…skelter　sort　of　way。　Above　the　fork　of

the　tree　whereon　we　rested　was　a　pile　of　dead　branches

and　brush。　　Four　or　five　adjacent　forks　held　what　I　may

term　the　various　ridge…poles。　　These　were　merely　stout

sticks　an　inch　or　so　in　diameter。　　On　them　rested　the

brush　and　branches。　These　seemed　to　have　been　tossed　on

almost　aimlessly。　　There　was　no　attempt　at　thatching。

And　I　must　confess　that　the　roof　leaked　miserably　in　a

heavy　rain。



But　the　Chatterer。　　He　made　home…life　a　burden　for　both

my　mother　and　meand　by　home…life　I　mean；　not　the

leaky　nest　in　the　tree；　but　the　group…life　of　the　three

of　us。　　He　was　most　malicious　in　his　persecution　of　me。

That　was　the　one　purpose　to　which　he　held　steadfastly

for　longer　than　five　minutes。　　Also；　as　time　went　by；

my　mother　was　less　eager　in　her　defence　of　me。　　I

think；　what　of　the　continuous　rows　raised　by　the

Chatterer；　that　I　must　have　become　a　nuisance　to　her。

At　any　rate；　the　situation　went　from　bad　to　worse　so

rapidly　that　I　should　soon；　of　my　own　volition；　have

left　home。　　But　the　satisfaction　of　performing　so

independent　an　act　was　denied　me。　　Before　I　was　ready

to　go；　I　was　thrown　out。　And　I　mean　this　literally。



The　opportunity　came　to　the　Chatterer　one　day　when　I

was　alone　in　the　nest。　　My　mother　and　the　Chatterer　had

gone　away　together　toward　the　blueberry　swamp。　　He　must

have　planned　the　whole　thing；　for　I　heard　him　returning

alone　through　the　forest；　roaring　with　self…induced

rage　as　he　came。　　Like　all　the　men　of　our　horde；　when

they　were　angry　or　were　trying　to　make　themselves

angry；　he　stopped　now　and　again　to　hammer　on　his　chest

with　his　fist。



I　realized　the　helplessness　of　my　situation；　and

crouched　trembling　in　the　nest。　　The　Chatterer　came

directly　to　the　treeI　remember　it　was　an　oak

treeand　began　to　climb　up。　　And　he　never　ceased　for　a

moment　from　his　infernal　row。　　As　I　have　said；　our

language　was　extremely　meagre；　and　he　must　have

strained　it　by　the　variety　of　ways　in　which　he　informed

me　of　his　undying　hatred　of　me　and　of　his　intention

there　and　then　to　have　it　out　with　me。



As　he　climbed　to　the　fork；　I　fled　out　the　great

horizontal　limb。　He　followed　me；　and　out　I　went；

farther　and　farther。　　At　last　I　was　out　amongst　the

small　twigs　and　leaves。　　The　Chatterer　was　ever　a

coward；　and　greater　always　than　any　anger　he　ever

worked　up　was　his　caution。　　He　was　afraid　to　follow　me

out　amongst　the　leaves　and　twigs。　　For　that　matter；　his

greater　weight　would　have　crashed　him　through　the

foliage　before　he　could　have　got　to　me。



But　it　was　not　necessary　for　him　to　reach　me；　and　well

he　knew　it；　the　scoundrel！　With　a　malevolent　expression

on　his　face；　his　beady　eyes　gleaming　with　cruel

intelligence；　he　began　teetering。　Teetering！and　with

me　out　on　the　very　edge　of　the　bough；　clutching　at　the

twigs　that　broke　continually　with　my　weight。　Twenty

feet　beneath　me　was　the　earth。



Wildly　and　morewildly　he　teetered；　grinning　at　me　his

gloating　hatred。　　Then　came　the　end。　　All　four　holds

broke　at　the　same　time；　and　I　fell；　back…downward；

looking　up　at　him；　my　hands　and　feet　still　clutching

the　broken　twigs。　　Luckily；　there　were　no　wild　pigs

under　me；　and　my　fall　was　broken　by　the　tough　and

springy　bushes。



Usually；　my　falls　destroy　my　dreams；　the　nervous　shock

being　sufficient　to　bridge　the　thousand　centuries　in　an

instant　and　hurl　me　wide　awake　into　my　little　bed；

where；　perchance；　I　lie　sweating　and　trembling　and　hear

the　cuckoo　clock　calling　the　hour　in　the　hall。　　But

this　dream　of　my　leaving　home　I　have　had　many　times；

and　never　yet　have　I　been　awakened　by　it。　　Always　do　I

crash；　shrieking；　down　through　the　brush　and　fetch　up

with　a　bump　on　the　ground。



Scratched　and　bruised　and　whimpering；　I　lay　where　I　had

fallen。　Peering　up　through　the　bushes；　I　could　see　the

Chatterer。　　He　had　set　up　a　demoniacal　chant　of　joy　and

was　keeping　time　to　it　with　his　teetering。　　I　quickly

hushed　my　whimpering。　　I　was　no　longer　in　the　safety　of

the　trees；　and　I　knew　the　danger　I　ran　of　bringing　upon

myself　the　hunting　animals　by　too　audible　an　expression

of　my　grief。



I　remember；　as　my　sobs　died　down；　that　I　became

interested　in　watching　the　strange　light…effects

produced　by　partially　opening　and　closing　my　tear…wet

eyelids。　　Then　I　began　to　investigate；　and　found　that　I

was　not　so　very　badly　damaged　by　my　fall。　　I　had　lost

some　hair　and　hide；　here　and　there；　the　sharp　and

jagged　end　of　a　broken　branch　had　thrust　fully　an　inch

into　my　forearm；　and　my　right　hip；　which　had　borne　the

brunt　of　my　contact　with　the　ground；　was　aching

intolerably。　　But　these；　after　all；　were　only　petty

hurts。　　No　bones　were　broken；　and　in　those　days　the

flesh　of　man　had　finer　healing　qualities　than　it　has

to…day。　　Yet　it　was　a　severe　fall；　for　I　limped　with　my

injured　hip　for　fully　a　week　afterward。



Next；　as　I　lay　in　the　bushes；　there　came　upon　me　a

feeling　of　desolation；　a　consciousness　that　I　was

homeless。　　I　made　up　my　mind　never　to　return　to　my

mother　and　the　Chatterer。　　I　would　go　far　away　through

the　terrible　forest；　and　find　some　tree　for　myself　in

which　to　roost。　　As　for　food；　I　knew　where　to　find　it。

For　the　last　year　at　least　I　had　not　been　beholden　to

my　mother　for　food。　　All　she　had　furnished　me　was

protection　and　guidance。



I　crawled　softly　out　through　the　bushes。　　Once　I　looked

back　and　saw　the　Chatterer　still　chanting　and

teetering。　　It　was　not　a　pleasant　sight。　　I　knew　pretty

well　how　to　be　cautious；　and　I　was　exceedingly　careful

on　this　my　first　journey　in　the　world。



I　gave　no　thought　as　to　where　I　was　going。　　I　had　but

one　purpose；　and　that　was　to　go　away　beyond　the　reach

of　the　Chatterer。　　I　climbed　into　the　trees　and

wandered　on　amongst　them　for　hours；　passing　from　tree

to　tree　and　never　touching　the　ground。　　But　I　did　not

go　in　any　particular　direction；　nor　did　I　travel

steadily。　It　was　my　nature；　as　it　was　the　nature　of　all

my　folk；　to　be　inconsequential。　　Besides；　I　was　a　mere

child；　and　I　stopped　a　great　deal　to　play　by　the　way。



The　events　that　befell　me　on　my　leaving　home　are　very

vague　in　my　mind。　　My　dreams　do　not　cover　them。　　Much

has　my　other…self　forgotten；　and　particularly　at　this

very　period。　　Nor　have　I　been　able　to　frame　up　the

various　dreams　so　as　to　bridge　the　gap　between　my

leaving　the　home…tree　and　my　arrival　at　the　caves。



I　remember　that　several　times　I　came　to　open　spaces。

These　I　crossed　in　great　trepidation；　descending　to　the

ground　and　running　at　the　top　of　my　speed。　　I　remember

that　there　were　days　of　rain　and　days　of　sunshine；　so

that　I　must　have　wandered　alone　for　quite　a　time。　　I

especially　dream　of　my　misery　in　the　rain；　and　of　my

sufferings　from　hunger　and　how　I　appeased　it。　　One　very

strong　impression　is　of　hunting　little　lizards　on　the

rocky　top　of　an　open　knoll。　　They　ran　under　the　ro